On Borrowed Time
by episodicshadow
Summary: Well, MimiRoger, kind of her last days and how the gang deals with it. First fanfic...and I'm really bad at summaries. R & R, please.
1. Chapter 1

_He was there...the man. Following her, his fingers reaching out and touching her skin before she managed to get away. His laugh followed her, snaking behind her as she fled, desperate to get away. The streets of New York surrounded her, closing in. The smog choked her. She was alone, going to be another lost soul swallowed by the streets, never spoken of again._

_Dark buildings everywhere. Somewhere a subway whizzed by, somewhere a homeless man yelled out in anger. In the darkness she could see shadows, shapes, moving, always moving. On the fringes of her mind, they called to her. Promises of success, of happiness, of security._

_Men leered from the windows, women taunted from the street corners. Always the same words. Slut. Whore. Junkie. She wanted to scream at them. Tell them she wasn't like that anymore...but she couldn't. She didn't even know if it was true anymore. Was she? People surrounded her, laughing, pointing, jeering. And no one was there for her. Pain raced down her limbs. She begged them to stop, for the fire to go away, for them to leave. Her head was going to explode. _

_The man was standing in front of her, the white powder inches from her nose. She could take it. Make everything go away. Make everything better. But...she couldn't. Couldn't go back there, to the half life in the dark corners of the city. The shadows were getting closer. The man was getting closer. She could see familiar faces in the gathering crowd. They shouted as one. Slut. Whore. Junkie. Slut. Whore. Junkie. _

_It wasn't true, it wasn't true. It couldn't be. Someone loved her…someone…there had to be someone…she had to find someone…_

Mimi woke in a cold sweat. Images of her nightmare flashed through her mind…all too real for her own comfort. 5 days. 5 days since she had almost died. 5 days without the drugs, without shooting up or snorting anything. Was this withdrawal? Pain she could deal with. Threats and insults she could deal with. They weren't anything new. But this feeling…of loss, horrible loss, complete loss, that was new. And it burned.

She rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. She needed a fix. Needed to slip into that comfortable oblivion. Needed to forget. She reached out her hand, trying to find the milk crate that served as a table, but it was too dark. Where was it…it should be here…

No. It wasn't. She tried to breathe in, tried to calm down. She wasn't in her apartment. Her apartment had a table, with a bag of white powder in the top drawer. She needed that…but where was she?

Sitting up straight, she cast a look around. Dark shadows covered everything. She thought she could make out a door, maybe a table, or was that a desk? It could have been anything, a big block of something that definitely was sticking out from the wall, but in the darkness had no distinct shape.

Then the shadows moved. No…they couldn't move…she was awake. This wasn't a dream, shadows couldn't hurt her here…but they were moving, sneaking over the shapes in the room, coming closer and closer. They were whispering again…the same promises. The same empty promises. Of fame, of glory, of freedom and happiness. They were calling to her…getting closer and closer as she curled up against the wall in fear.

"No…no please…don't hurt me…I didn't do anything…I'm sorry…please…don't…I don't want…" Her voice kept cracking, getting higher and higher, yet softer and softer in fear. She didn't want them to hear her, but maybe someone else would, maybe someone could help her.

She scrunched herself again the wall and willed her mouth not to open. She couldn't scream. Then they would know she was there. If she didn't move, if she kept completely still, maybe they would leave. Maybe they would forget about her.

A siren broke the unbearable silence, but they were not distracted. They knew she was there. They were coming for her. She couldn't stop them…if she screamed, would someone come? But who would help…in her dream, there was someone, wasn't there? Someone who cared…if she screamed, would that person come? Would the shadows go away?

They kept moving…they kept coming. Millions of them, filling the room until there was nothing but her and the shadows. They wanted her, to take her back to the shadows of New York, to bind her there…

"I don't want to go!"

Her scream pierced the quiet night, sending birds flying from the tree outside the window. Beside her, a young rock star woke up.

Roger Davies was what every girl wanted and every boy wanted to be. He was young, blue eyed and blonde, with a rocker attitude and the talent to match. At a glance. When you looked closer you saw the man he was, someone who had been hurt too many times to recount, someone who was almost afraid to live life. Ex junkie, HIV positive. His life read like a roller coaster.

Right now he was torn between being confused and irritated. It couldn't be earlier than 4 in the morning. Why on earth was he up? Normally he slept until…well…at least 9. Then Mark would come in and throw something at him. But…

Then he noticed the crying, shaking figure that was curled up against the wall, sitting on his bed. Seeing as it was 4 in the morning, he could probably be forgiven for not seeing her earlier. At first he was confused. Who was this girl sitting on his bed? This was his apartment! His room. At 4 in the morning, he wasn't used to intruders.

But she was so scared. He looked around, confused. Nothing scary. New York was quiet, almost peaceful. He looked around at his meager furniture. A car went by, and shadows raced up the walls. The girl whimpered and drew closer to the wall, muttering something under her breath. Was she scared of the shadows? Maybe she was scared of the dark.

He crawled over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She jumped and spun around to face him, her brown eyes full of tears. She shuddered at his touch, but he looked at her and remembered…Mimi. How could he have forgotten? Five days…five days since she died. 3 since she got back from the hospital. He wouldn't let her be by herself, so she was staying here. Mimi…

"Mimi…it's all right. I'm here. I'll protect you."

She looked up at him. Who was he? He wasn't a shadow, that was obvious. Kind eyes. He wanted to help, he said he'd protect her. But she didn't understand. Where was she? Not in her apartment, obviously. She took a hurried look around. That hospital…she wasn't there. The hospital was different. This place…was like her apartment, but different. Her stash wasn't here. Maybe she had moved her table?

"Mimi, it's me. Don't worry."

She looked at him with confusion. Then…the eyes. She remembered those eyes, from the hospital. She knew him. He had brought her back. He had sung to her, and Angel had told her to come back, to come back to…"

"Roger?"

He smiled. "Mimi. It's okay. I won't let anything hurt you. I promise."

"Roger, I need…I need a fix. I need to make them go away. Please, just one…I promise, that will be it. Just one."

Her eyes were desperate, every now and then flicking to the corners of the room, looking for unseen demons.

"Mimi, it won't help you. Please, come here. It's all right. They're not real."

He opened his arms and she crawled into them. Like a child. He rocked her back and forth, trying not to see the memories of April that crawled through his head. He wouldn't let Mimi die. Oh god, he couldn't. He couldn't lose her. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and swore that no matter what, he'd protect her.

"You want something to drink? Help you go back to bed?"

"Roger, please. Just one hit. That's all. Then I'll stop, I promise."

"No."

She looked like she was going to cry. "But they're going to come and hurt me. I can't go back there…not to that life. I just need one…make it all go away."

"Mimi, one will send you back there. I won't send you back. You can beat this. I'm here for you. Don't give in."

"Please Roger!"

Her voice was getting steadily louder and louder, and Roger was worried Mark would wake up soon. "No, Mimi. Besides, there's no more. Mark and I went through your apartment when you were in the hospital. Got rid of it all. Please Mimi. Fight it."

She looked at him and he felt like he was going to melt. "You don't love me. You don't even care about me. If you cared, you wouldn't make me go through this hell." Her voice was like ice, and he hated it. Hated seeing her like this.

He held her tight against her protests and tried not to listen. Over and over, she screamed that she hated him. Was this what he had been like? How had Mark forgiven him? How had Mark even dealt with it? The boy was definitely a saint.

Eventually she quieted and stared at him. "Don't leave me, Roger." It was the voice of a child. He had heard it before. The voice of the 15 year old Mimi that had run away from home and found nothing but darkness in the streets of New York. The child she still was. His heart ached for her.

Slowly he lay her down back on the bed and tucked the blankets tightly around her. He sat beside her for a while in the darkness, until he was assured she was asleep. Only then could he let go and close his eyes. He hoped she would be all right until morning.


	2. Chapter 2

On Borrowed Time

Chapter 2: Somewhere Between Now and Some Other Time

Morning came earlier than he would have liked it to, but considering the events of last night, he was shocked he had gotten back to sleep at all. It was icy cold, but he didn't mind. This apartment was always cold, you kind of got used to it after a while. Slowly he got up, making sure not to make too much noise and wake Mimi.

He smiled at her, curled up in a cocoon of blankets, her hair spread around her head like a halo, the dark curls sharply contrasting with the white sheets. God, for a junkie stripper she sure was innocent. Or, that's what you would think. Then you looked into her eyes, and saw they were older than the eyes of a 19 year old, saw how much pain and suffering they had seen. He stroked her hair affectionately and she let out a contented sigh. At least for now she was happy, not plagued by demons or shadows or shadow demons.

He turned around and walked into the main area of the loft, and glared at the sun streaming in the windows, giving everything an annoying glow. Damn sun. Everything looked so perfect, and he knew it wasn't. Nothing was ever perfect. Even their couch looked nice in the sunlight.

And they didn't have any coffee, either. He thought Mark had gone shopping…of course, Mark didn't drink coffee anymore. Mark didn't wake up at 4 in the morning trying to comfort a crying teenager, either.

She still was a teenager, in every sense of the word. That kind of scared him. He was 22, should have been at the top of his game. Two years ago he had been. Everyone had loved him then. He had been unstoppable. Good looks, great voice, he had oozed charisma. He was the kind of guy who was going somewhere, who was going to make a difference. But then he met April, and, obviously, everything changed.

Now that Mimi was around, things were changing again. Maybe for the better, this time. Mark wasn't around as much, which sucked. Always filming. Or trying to get a job. Or trying to promote Today 4 U. Maureen and Joanne came by to say hi every now and then, and Collins was back teaching somewhere. Benny…well, Benny brought a casserole every couple of weeks, but never came in.

So, largely, it was him and Mimi in the apartment. He chuckled to himself, thinking how only a few weeks ago he was thinking about how small the place was, how they should get rid of some of the furniture that they didn't use. Now it seemed like a palace, with Mimi sleeping most of the time and him just…pacing. He had tried to write, tried to practice, but he didn't want Mimi to wake up. Besides, he couldn't think anyway. Not without seeing her, alone in that room, like a defenseless child. She needed to get better, and he had promised he would stay until she was. He wouldn't break a promise. He wouldn't leave her alone. He couldn't go through April again.

"Morning."

"Hey, Mark. You off to shoot?"

"No…hey, listen, do you want a break? Like, I could watch Mimi. You need some fresh air, seriously. Can't stay in here forever, you'll drive yourself insane."

Roger thought about it. Air would be nice. A break would definitely be cool. But he didn't know if he had it in him to leave her, even for an hour. Images…memories spun through his head. We have AIDS. One sentence. He had left her, hadn't he? What if Mimi hallucinated again? Anything could happen. Mark could step outside for a minute. Just a minute, and everything was gone.

"You'll look after her?"

"Roger, come on. I care about her. Yeah, not as much as you do, but I won't let her do anything stupid. Just an hour. Go down and get some breakfast. We have some money. Or go to the park. Just get out. You can't stay here forever, man. When she wakes up she'll kill you. You know she hates you staying here."

He sighed. Mark was right. Mark was always right. "Fine. An hour. That's it. Then I'm coming back. You promise you'll look after her?"

"Yeah. Of course. Maureen and Joanne are coming down, anyway. The three of us can handle her."

Roger smiled, trying to visualize Maureen's version of 'handling' someone. Poor Mimi. But he'd be back in an hour. She'd probably sleep right through it, never realize he was gone.

Would be kind of nice if she did, though. Not like obsessively needing him to be there, but he'd like to be missed. Even if it was only for an hour. Sometimes he wondered if she even noticed him. He knew she loved him, but when she wanted a fix, it was like he wasn't even there. He understood, of course he understood, but it was enough to place that shred of doubt in his heart.

"When are they coming?"

"Somewhere between now and some other time."

Roger gave him a look. Mark laughed. "That's what Maureen said. You know her, she's horrible with times. She'll probably be here soon, though. I told her we had coffee."

"We have coffee?"

"Of course not. But we have tea. You want some?"

Roger had never liked tea. However, when you got 4 hours of sleep just about any form of caffeine will do. Hell, he'd inject into his veins right about now. And he had a policy about needles.

"Fine."

Mark smiled. "Wow, last night must have been killer. What happened?"

"Demon shadows again. She woke up crying."

"Poor kid. She's really going through the ringer."

"Was I like that?"

"Delusional? Yeah. Used to run through the house screaming about how your sneakers were going to eat you. Only lasted a couple of weeks, though. Thank god. Collins nearly killed you."

Roger stifled a laugh, and downed his tea in one gulp. The idea of an enraged Collins chasing his delirious self through the apartment was hilarious. Mark smiled and returned to preparing toast.

"Yeah, and that wasn't the worst. Sometimes I'd leave, and Collins would be watching you, but he'd fall asleep. I'd come back and the furniture was all rearranged. You made a fort once. Took us 4 hours to get you out of it. You kept saying that if you left….what did you call it? Oh yeah, Rogtopia. If you left Rogtopia then she'd get you. Collins felt awful."

"She?"

"April. You were terrified of April for a while. You were so afraid she'd come back and take you away from us."

Roger was silent. April. Of course he had been afraid of April, she had ruined his life. Though, it annoyed him he couldn't remember any of this. Rogtopia? God, he must have been so far gone. He was a musician. He was creative. Creative people, in their normal state, did not think up names like Rogtopia.

"You better get going, if you want to be back before she wakes up. I mean, Maureen and Joanne and I can handle her, but she'll want you."

Roger nodded and turned towards the bedroom, slipping silently in and smiling at the sleeping figure. God she was pretty. Fragile, too. You could see her bones poking out under her skin. She needed to eat. Otherwise she would die. And he couldn't stand to lose her. He lightly stroked her hair, grabbed his sneakers, and snuck back out.

"See you in about an hour. Take good care of her."

Mark nodded, then grimaced at the burnt toast. "I assume you'll be getting breakfast elsewhere?"

"Yep. I'll grab something for Mimi too, so don't worry about her."

"All right. Have fun."

Roger nodded almost absentmindedly and ran down the stairs. It was one of those mornings that makes you want to do something, all crisp and clear and shit. Sunny, too. People were moving around, not a lot…Alphabet City never really came alive until evening. He could swear a lot of the people were nocturnal.

He wanted to get breakfast for Mimi. Something nice, that she could enjoy. None of the burnt toast that was Mark's specialty. Or the watery eggs that was his. Funny, that out of the three who lived in that place, no one could cook. Mark could make pasta, Mimi could make sandwiches if she felt up to it, but he wasn't any chef. It was because of Mark that he wasn't a complete skeleton. The stuff that he made wasn't eatable at all.

He could go to the Life Café. They did takeout. Some eggs, maybe some bacon or sausage. It was expensive, yeah, but it was Mimi. She didn't have much longer. He wanted to make her last days the best he could. No matter what the cost.

What was going to happen to them? Angel was dead, Mimi was on her last legs, Collins was dying, he was dying, and Maureen and Joanne were slowly but surely leaving the family and becoming independent. Mark…Mark was still always on the edges, observing. Roger was worried about him, he couldn't pretend he wasn't.

They had been paying the rent with what was left of Mark's paychecks from Buzzline. He had been looking for another job, as well as trying to get some theatre, somewhere, to screen Today 4 U. Roger had to hand it to him, he was really pulling everyone's weight. Mimi wasn't working, holed up in her room recovering. Roger, though he really should have been trying to find a gig, was looking after her.

Collins sent money every now and then. Benny tried to help, though he wasn't welcome and he knew it. Maureen and Joanne lived their own lives, though they were always coming over. In some ways, they were still a family, and in some ways it was obvious their time was drawing to a close. And that thought, more than losing Mimi, more than dying, scared him.


	3. Chapter 3

Note: Erm…well, not much to say. Thanks for all the reviews! Oh, and yeah, this bit is MarkMaureen…not sure if it will continue or what. Anyway, happy reading.

On Borrowed Time

Chapter 3: Never Going to Have a Quiet Life

Maureen stormed in at exactly 10:02, brushing loose snow off her coat and hair, followed by an equally peeved Joanne who slammed the door so hard Mark cringed. The poor door was not going to last much longer with those two around. Of course, if Mimi was up now Roger was going to kill him, so he slowly closed the door to their room and turned to face the fuming women who were standing in his living room.

"So, um, what's wrong?"

"They turned our heat off, again. And Miss Drama Queen went down and started YELLING at him, and he threatened to evict us! Evict us!"

Joanne shot Maureen a dirty look as she sputtered angrily. "Oh? Miss Drama Queen, is it? Well who was shouting that she was going to sue his ass from here to China? Come on, Pookie. I was trying to help. You're the one who was complaining. I've spent the better part of my life without heat."

"Maureen, you beg me to live with you. So I do. I'm paying all the bills. I told you to pay the rent, but what did you do with the money? Tell him. Tell Mark what you did!"

Mark sighed, and Maureen turned bright red. "It wasn't that bad…I didn't mean to…it was an accident. I forgot that that was the rent money."

"Forgot? Forgot? How can you forget? You went and spent it all. All of it. On dinner and wine and a bunch of romantic crap. What possessed you to go have dinner, by yourself, at the Plaza Hotel restaurant? If you even were by yourself!"

Joanne stormed out, and Mark gazed at his ex-girlfriend with mingled pity and annoyance. "The Plaza Hotel? Maureen, I know you have moments when you think you're rich, but you're not. You have to understand that, now that you're living with Joanne."

He didn't quite understand what he said, but it started the girl blubbering. "It wasn't for me!" she yelled, her eyes filling with tears. "It was our anniversary…our 13 month anniversary…I wanted to do something special…but she didn't show up…"

"What? Why?"

"Work. It's always work now. I never see her. I've tried to be loyal, tried to be home at a certain time, to make dinner, to be there. You know me, Mark, I'm not cut out to be domesticated. But I wanted to make her happy. I found some extra money around, thought she'd like a night out, so she could relax. But stupid work…I'm losing her, Marky. What have I done wrong?"

She ended this speech with a wail that could have shattered glass. Shaking, she collapsed on the couch and curled up into a ball, crying and moaning and wailing. Mark wanted to tell her to be quiet, not to wake Mimi, but that would be awfully inconsiderate, wouldn't it? Although…Roger would be back soon, and if Mimi was up Mark would be fried for dinner. God, he wanted a quiet life.

"Marky? Marky! Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course, Maureen. Listen, you can stay here for a while. Wait until she calms down. How much do you need for rent?"

"I…I don't know. Joanne handles that sort of thing. Hopefully she can get a loan or something to cover it. Oh Marky, I don't know what I'm going to do. I want to help, really I do, but I don't know…nothing I do seems to be right."

"Well…you could always get a job. Try out for a few plays. See what happens."

She gave him a look he couldn't interpret. He knew the idea of working never had appealed to Maureen, but what could he say? They needed money. If Joanne got a job it might definitely help. And Joanne wouldn't say no to that.

"Do you really think so? You think I could get a part in a play?"

Oh, so now she was fishing for compliments. He understood, her self esteem, which normally was ballooning out the window, had shrunk considerably since she had walked in here. But he didn't want to get into anything…Maureen had a bad habit of taking things a bit too seriously. Not that he didn't want a relationship with Maureen; he had never really gotten over her, but he didn't think that she could handle that right now, much less Joanne.

"I think you'd be good. Besides, it's what you've always wanted. And you could get some cash. That's always a good thing, right?"

"I can just see it now. My name in lights. Starring: Maureen Johnson. Oh god, Marky. I could be the next…well, not even the next. I will break new boundaries. I will be…famous!"

She stood up and started pantomiming waving to adoring fans, accepting invisible roses, writing invisible autographs. He could tell she was all ready writing her Oscar speech in her head.

Mark smiled, glad she was happy again, and went to sit down on the couch. "So, I could talk to some friends of mine for you, maybe line up a couple of auditions."

She smiled, and gave him a sidelong glance. "That's a great idea. You're always so helpful…so loving…always looking out for me."

He didn't like that look. He knew Maureen too well…what was she going to try now?

Slowly she slinked over to him, shooting him seductive looks all the while, wrapped one arm around his shoulders, and pulled him towards her, all the while kissing him passionately. "Marky, Marky, Marky. It's been too long, Baby."

His muscles seized up. No. This wasn't happening. She and Joanne were together, living together. A year after they had broken up, and he had finally gotten over her. She wasn't going to do this to him. Not now.

"Maureen…I can't. You're with Joanne. She loves you. You love her. There's no room for me in that."

"There's always room for my pookie. Besides, it's just a bit of fun. And I know you've wanted this. You've missed me, you wanted me back. Admit it."

"I…I did. Please, Maureen, don't ruin our friendship. Don't ruin it with Joanne."

"Marky, this is what you want." She smiled and ran a hand up the inside of his thigh. He moaned and sat back, watching as she undid his belt buckle. "Please, Marky? Let's play. I want you. It was a mistake for us to break up…we're so perfect together. Come on, Pookie. I need you."

A thousand thoughts were running through his head a mile a minute, and he couldn't focus on all of them. Yeah, he wanted to protect Joanne, but hell with Joanne. This was his life. Enough sitting on the sidelines. Enough watching and cheering. He was going to take control, live life the way he wanted. Hey, no day but today, right?

This is what he wanted. To hell with Joanne, to hell with Roger, to hell with everyone. Today Mark Cohen took back his reality. He leaned forward and kissed Maureen hard on the mouth.

"Excuse me, am I interrupting something?"


End file.
